Extrodinarily Like Her
by DramioneLove6
Summary: My Snape/Hermione oneshot, as promised. The oneshot aspect is subject to change...read the A/N at the beginning. He compares her to someone, and she won't stop til she finds out who and why.


**A/N: Please give me an opinion on whether I should turn this into a real story. I toyed with the idea, but couldn't decide; so I'll let you, my dear reader, do it for me. If you think I should leave it as-is, let me know! Majority rules, so however many I get for each opinion by July 9th will determine where I go from here. Enjoy!**

"Ms. Granger, if you try to correct me _one more time_, I will take fifty points from Gryffindor. Is that understood.?" Hermione frowned at Professor Snape.

"Professor, I only corrected you because you were wrong." It was Snape's turn to frown. Harry and Ron were looking at Hermione like she was crazy, and she knew she probably was. Recently she had been torturing Snape in classes, constantly interrupting and correcting him. She had lost more points from Gryffindor in the past few days than in the last six and a half years combined. It was just, this was her last year at Hogwarts. She had never caused problems before, so why not wreak a little havoc? She was fed up with Snape's complete and utter unfounded hatred of her and her friends. Not to mention his favoring Slytherin students over everyone else was getting old, too. So, she gladly talked back and spoke out.

"Ms. Granger, you will see me after class." Hermione rolled her eyes and let her breath out in a huff. The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Snape called their homework over the loud shuffling of things being packed away. "I want an essay about the correct way to make Felix Felicis. Two rolls of parchment, on my desk next Monday." The crowd of students groaned, and made their way out the door. Hermione remained in her seat. Snape glared at her. She glared back.

"Well, I've seen you, and it's after class. Are you going to tell me what you want or can I go?" She snapped. Snape smiled, and evil contortion of his face that was anything but pleasant.

"Ms. Granger, I would appreciate it if you would please tell me why you have seen fit to openly mock me in my classroom, and explain why you think you can get away with it." He sat down in the chair behind his desk and peered at her across the room.

"I hate you. I always have. However, I've never really shown it and I thought, 'Hey. It's seventh year. May as well let go.' I don't expect to get away with it, I just don't care what the consequences are." She said this as if she were commenting on the weather.

"So," Snape murmured softly. "You just feel the need to speak your mind while you can, and you don't care what happens because of it?" Hermione shrugged. Snape laughed, then his eyes softened. "How extrodinarily like her you've become." The pain in his voice startled her.

"Like...like who, Professor?" Curiosity burned inside her. Who was she so like? Why was it so hard for him to say it? But Snape just shook his head.

"Go on to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ms. Granger. And don't forget: two rolls of parchment, Felix Felicis." The obvious and abrupt dismissal left her with no answers. She gathered her things and left.

"Well, how much trouble did you get in?" Harry asked her as she stepped into the hall.

"What he means is, how many points have you lost from Gryffindor this time?" Ron muttered.

"For your information, he didn't take any points from us. In fact, I didn't get into trouble at all." She brushed past them, and they hurried after her. This year Hermione had been acting out a lot, mostly in Snape's classes. Usually she lost fifty points from Gryffindor and got detention for a week. This time, she seemed to have gotten off easy.

"Hermione, what did Snape want if he wasn't going to punish you?" Harry's curious tone matched her own feelings. Instead of answering, she pushed open the door of the classroom and sat down in a seat far in the back. She needed to think, and she could not do that if she was concentrating on the lesson.

_Who am I like? Why didn't he punish me? What in the bloody hell is going on with him?_

Monday, Hermione had a plan. At the end of Potions, when everyone was turning in their essay, she did not leave her seat until everyone else was gone. Then, she walked briskly up to Snape's desk and slapped her own essay on the desk. It was four rolls of parchment long. Snape looked at her with a mild expression. She pulled a chair in front of his desk and plopped down; she crossed her arms and waited.

"How may I help you, Ms. Granger?" His cool voice washed over Hermione as she stared at him.

"Professor Snape, I'm not leaving until you tell me who you were talking about." She answered.

"What incentive do I have to release that information to you? It is personal and none of your business." Snape's onyx eyes locked onto her choclate ones. She suppressed a shiver and shrugged.

"Well, you can't want me hanging around here forever." She said, but he laughed.

"Ms. Granger, I couldn't give a flying leap where you are at any given point. I don't care if you stay." Hermione gaped at him.

"W - well, fine, then. I'm staying right here." She stammered, losing her grip for a moment. Then she shook herself. "You know, I could just force the answer out of you." She muttered.

"What are you going to do, use the Imperious Curse on me? All that'll do is send you to Azkaban." But she was still staring at him defiantly. "Would you really throw your life away for one small answer?" He asked softly. When she nodded, he sighed. "Very well. I was referring to Lily Evans. Exceptionally bright, but never afraid of speaking her mind, especially where I was concerned." He smiled, and this time it was genuine. _He almost looks...handsome._ Hermione quickly berated herself for the mere thought, and said the first thing that seemed logical.

"Was she a student of yours?"

"Oh, no. Lily Evans was my best friend. We met when we were ten and went to Hogwarts together. She was a Muggle-born; I was the one who told her why she made strange things happen." Hermione felt her jaw drop. Snape's smile faded, replaced with a look of sadness.

"What - what happened?" She had to know.

"I made a mistake, one I will always regret. It ended our friendship and anything that might have been. She went on to marry and have a son, while I gave my life to the Dark Arts. The Dark Lord killed her himself." A tear ran down his cheek, and Hermione instinctively reached forward and wiped it away. The moment her skin touched his, it was like electricty had been shot through her body. She pulled away, and he frowned at her. Not unfriendly, more contemplative.

"Is that when you became a double agent for Dumbledore?" Hermione whispered. He nodded. After a moment of semi-awkward silence, Snape suddenly returned to his normal cold self.

"Ms. Granger, I have answered your question. You may leave my classroom." He stood, about to leave himself. Hermione, however, remained sitting. He paused at the door when he realized she was not behind him. He turned and saw her in the chair. "Come, Ms. Granger. You have classes to attend and I have other business." She stood slowly, as if in a trance, and turned to face him. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I happen to know that Lily Evans was Harry's mother. You loved her, didn't you?" He could barely hear the words coming from her lips, but he nodded.

"Yes, I did, Ms. Granger."

Hermione shot across the classroom and wrapped her arms around her professor's neck. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. Snape, shocked, was slow to respond. He patted her on the back and encircled her waist with his arms.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione's words were muffled, but the meaning was clear enough. Snape ran a hand over her hair, and the other found its way between her shoulderblades. He hugged her tight, and when they finally pulled apart both of their faces were wet. Snape placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and looked deep into her eyes.

"Hermione, you are a beautiful and bright witch. I have given you the highest compliment I can by comparing you to her. Perhaps it is best...for the both of us...to distance ourselves. You are excused from classes for the next week." He dropped his hand and swept out of the classroom, leaving her to fall to the floor in a sobbing heap.


End file.
